


Avatar: Unwoken

by moonwriter



Series: Avatar: Unwoken [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deviates From Canon, Drama, Gen, Gran Gran will not not be pleased, Slow Romance, Sokka and his boomerang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwriter/pseuds/moonwriter
Summary: A world with no avatar…Aang is still frozen. Zuko, still searching.The world is still in peril.
Relationships: Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Avatar: Unwoken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766506
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. White Nothing (Katara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara feels trapped in an icy wasteland. Her bending isn’t much help.  
> She wishes more than anything for something different.

# Katara

## Chapter One

### White Nothing

Fishing. One of the many activities Katara did with her brother, Sokka. But she wasn’t there to catch fish—she was practicing her bending (which was, as usual, not going well).

Katara removed one of her seal turtle gloves and focused on the water below. Calm, soft wakes stirred the boat. She pushed and pulled her hand, mimicking the water’s ebb and flow. Trying… but not feeling anything.

“Are you just going to mess with the waves all day or can you pick up a net and help me out here?” Sokka tossed a net toward her without even looking up.

“Not now, Sokka.” She tried to regain focus, but she’s not sure she ever had it to begin with. Whatever motivation she had was quickly fading.

Katara sunk down into the hull of their small fishing boat and closed her eyes. If she just had a teacher, she thinks, everything would be better. Or even just another person in her village going through what she was going through, but no one else showed any interest in bending. Besides, Sokka was the only other person her age: old enough to try bending, but not too old to know it wouldn’t work. Ever since the fire nation attacked he’d been her only true peer. All the other kids were either babies or fighting age at the time of the invasion.

“C’mon, Katara. We don’t have all day.”

Katara opened her eyes. Everywhere she looked, white ice. White snow. White, cloudless sky. Even the sun seemed white, and it never set. She was on a platter of white nothing on an endless loop, and she hated it. Everything about the South seemed to get on her nerves these days.

“Maybe I could focus on my bending if you were better at fishing.” Katara touched the course rope of the net. She felt its fraying edges with her fingertips, thinking that’s how she must feel on the inside. She already regretted what she said. She only did it because she’s annoyed, but she knew it would get to him. He’s sensitive about these things. Pretty much anything their dad could do, he needs to do. 

“Maybe if you were better at bending you could use it to help me catch a fish. Are you ever going to even move the water?”

She sighs.

“Probably not.” Something inside her is folding in on itself.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it,” Sokka says. “You’ll get it if you just keep trying.”

“Thanks… I didn’t either. I’m sure they’re just not biting today.”

Katara can feel his eyes on her and somehow that’s making it worse. The pressure of needing to live this life, and the pressure of her unhappiness on her family is crushing her from the inside.

“I think I just need to clear my head.” Katara grabbed an oar and paddled them the edge of the ice, stepping out onto solid ground.

“It’ll be alright.” Sokka must have noticed that this was a trend with her lately. She hadn’t even realized, but he wasn’t normally so nice.

Katara looked away, unable to meet her brother’s gaze.

When she stepped away from the boat and looked up, something was off. The sky wasn’t right. Not the same as it always was—she would know. The difference is slight, but there was definitely something.

“Do you see that?”

“What?”

“The sky. It’s… different.”

“Looks the same to me,” Sokka said. He looked from her to the sky, then threw a net out into the still waters.

Katara waited for a moment, expecting something to happen, but as usual nothing did.

“Should I wait for you, or is this a long, don’t-wait-for-me walk?”

“You go on,” she said. “I need to work on this… Maybe I almost have it.”

She walked on, leaving the boat and her brother behind.

The day rolled on, but still Katara walked along the ice’s edge, throwing her hands toward the water. Pushing and pulling with all her might—all her body. Sweat rolled down her forehead, mingling with the occasional tear. Sokka just didn’t get it, but she didn’t blame him. He could grow up to be a warrior like their father. He could avenge their mother. But if Katara didn’t have bending… she was helpless. She had nothing but the ability to marry (and in that moment she didn’t even have that), and then what would she be? The cook and housekeeper for some man she could only hope would be kind?

“It’s just not fair!” Katara pushed with all her might and still, nothing happened.

She slumped down onto her knees. Tears filled her frozen palms, now purpled from being exposed to the raw cold for so long.

Katara put her gloves back on, wiped her face and looked out into the water. The ever-present ice and snow was reflected back at her. It towered and towered. Sometimes it melted a bit, then built on itself again. Not alive, just looming. Never changing. And then she felt it. Something snapped—whatever had been falling within her was broken. It was time to move on. She couldn’t be like the snow, or the scant tribe, or her withering grandmother, only ever aging in this white wasteland. Never changing. She was sick of sitting around waiting for her life to happen. She needed to take matters into her own hands.

But there was something wrong with the reflection. The sky…

Katara looked up. The snow falling before her face wasn’t its usual white. It was… gray. Different.

_Weird._

There was something on the horizon. Something red and waving, like a flag.

Fear flashed through Katara’s fingertips for a moment before she realized the flag is full of rips and sun-faded. It must be the old fire nation shipwreck—she hadn’t realized she’d ventured so far. She and Sokka never came out this way because of the old rumors that the ship was booby-trapped, but the more she thought about it the more it seemed like another excuse to keep them from having any excitement in their lives. Another stupid rule. Another day doing nothing.

The wreck had to be, what, half a century old? Surely nothing had survived for that long… and who would have rigged a crash site? _Unlikely._

Probably all she would find was weapons, maps… things Sokka could use. And maybe the ship would be usable. Katara would have no idea how to captain it, but maybe it would have a smaller ship on board. Something sturdy… why hadn’t she ever thought of this before?

Even if she had, Sokka would probably be too wary to go near, but he was back in the village and she was finally able to do anything she pleased. Time to do a little exploring.

Half of the ship’s prow was embedded in ice, and most of it was dusted in white powder, but the blackish gray metal still caught the pale sunlight, blinding her. Katara raised her arm to block the endless white glare and climbed the back section of ice and snow. She glanced up every so often at the tattered red flag, still on the breezeless morning.

Katara reached the deck and caught her breath. Sweat matted the furs on her collar to her neck, but it was still too cold to remove her coat.

The deck was a long, flat patchwork of metal sheets bolted together, crumpled near the front from the impact with the ice. An entrance protruded near the middle of the ship… an open door, probably not visited by humans since the day of the crash.

Katara stepped toward it, listening for some sign of danger, but none came. Only silence. Carefully, she eased into the quarters and headed for the stairs. The descending walls were lined with spears and suits of armor, untouched by all but the elements. The fabric was wearing away from the weather. Parts that should have been red had faded to an orangish-pink in some places. Some of the metal had rusted on the shoulders from the melting snow.

Katara continued down into the darkness looming before her. For a moment it gave her pause… anything could be down there. A penguin bear. An old forgotten soldier. But even the scariest discovery would be _something._

Her feet found the next step in the dark, then the next.

“Hello?” she called. Her own voice sounded different against the metal walls, but no answer came. A reddish glow came from somewhere down the hall; some small light at the bottom maybe. Something she couldn’t see. Katara’s foot reached for the last step, but met resistance. Some small force pushed her foot back the way it came. She pulled away, but already knew it was too late. Something pinged out of sight. She froze. Sounds of pulleys and levers whirred, and then an ear-splitting crack broke the silence. The entire ship shook for just a moment.

_Oh no._

Katara turned and ran up the stairs as fast as her feet would carry her, but by the time she reached the top her mistake had already painted the sky: a red flare soared up through the falling snow, leaving billowing clouds of red in its wake before thunderously erupting into a shower of red sparks impossibly high above.

She sprinted to the edge and began her descent, slipping on the sleek ice underfoot. That was probably the only trap, but she needed to get away. The shock was exciting, but it was still a little unnerving to be all alone on a fire nation ship, especially with the mysterious gray snow falling through the air. Maybe she’d come back the next day, and maybe Sokka would want to come too.

She’d forgotten about Sokka for a whole minute, but thinking about him again made her heart sink. He had probably seen the flare and was practicing his I-told-you-so’s with the kids he hung around “training” all day long. It was really just a bunch of babysitting… but at least he had _something_. She had her resolve, but she didn’t have a plan. That was as good as nothing. Tomorrow held nothing but the possibility of returning to an old, useless ship. At least Sokka had his training.

Hating him for his sense of purpose was useless. She was only mad because he was right. Her bending was basically nothing. She’d _maybe_ budged the water a few times, and she thought she splashed it once, but it could have been a fish below the surface, or even a trick of her tired eyes on some of the smaller occasions.

Katara went to pull her gloves off and maybe try again, but thought better of it. At least for today.

The gray seemed to intensify near the horizon. _Probably just ships_. Mystery solved. Fire nation ships passed every so often, but never stopped. They knew the Southern Water Tribe was without warriors. They were no threat now. Had they ever had been?

The sky, ever-light during this half of the year, betrayed no sign of how late it had gotten. Morning turned seamlessly to night, and when Katara heard the penguins calling she knew she’d been out much later than she thought.

A sound in the distance, unidentifiable at first, quickly becomes one she hadn’t heard in quite some time: men’s voices. Her heart soared for a moment—had her father and the other men finally returned? She started to jog, and a smile spread easily across her lips—the first time in a long time she could remember being excited to get back home.

Then realization dawned: the smoke. The ships. The flare.

The fire nation.

The voices were too far to make out, but she didn’t waste another moment. Her jog broke into a sprint, fighting against the powdered snow with each sinking step. She needed to get back, to warn the others. Sokka would hardly be able to do anything, but they needed to be together.

A sound of metal on ice jolted her from her thoughts: to her right a man slid down the ice, blocking her path. His clothing was different from the suits of armor in the ship—newer, but unmistakably fire nation.

“Going somewhere?”

Katara skidded to a halt, sending powder flying.

She knew it was a crucial moment, but that didn’t help her to know what to do. Had Sokka come running when he’d seen the flare? She couldn’t count on it. And she doesn’t have anything for protection. Not even a hunting knife. For the second time in her life she felt afraid to her core, as if the fear, acrid and seething, were seeping into her bones like a poison. She wanted to vomit, but that wasn’t not an option.

“What do you want?” She couldn’t see the face beneath the helmet, but the sound of his voice had already burned itself into her mind. She tried looking for a way out without being too obvious, but there wasn’t anything but ice and snow. She could yell, but would anyone hear?

“Someone’s lighting off signals. We thought maybe we had a stranded soldier… but it looks like we just have a rat.”

Katara bit her lip, wishing she had a helmet to hide behind as well. She could try to bend, but she knew exactly what would happen: nothing. _Okay. Next best option._ Katara looked as if she were about to speak, then turned on her heels and ran for her life. 

Her whole body surged with adrenaline—stomach roiling and heart pounding—she might actually be sick, but she kept going. Hopefully the fire nation soldier wasn’t used to running in the snow, but she didn’t dare look back to check on her lead. She knew the ice up and down, and knew her stamina. Trying to make it all the way back to the village without getting caught would be useless.

So went goes back towards the shipwreck. She didn’t know why, but it was the only plan she had. Miraculously, the rest of his crew wasn’t there. She scrambled around to the side she’d scaled before and clawed herself up, pulling her feet away from her chaser moments before he could get a hold of her ankles.

Katara hoisted herself over the ship’s wall and raced across the deck, down into the quarters. She pulled the first spear in sight from the wall and dashed down the stairs, jumping over the last step. The red glow was ahead, and the pang of racing footsteps followed closely behind.

Katara reached the end of the hall, which turned out to be some sort of captain’s quarters, and saw at last the source of the glow: the glinting of light off of a ruby necklace, long forgotten on a drafting table. Stones as vibrant as freshly spilled blood now collected dust amongst scrolls and dried up inkwells. Unseen for ages. Before she could think twice Katara grabbed the necklace and stuffed it in her pocket.

Down the hall, the man sprinted toward her, at last uninhibited by snow.

Katara lifted the spear and stood her ground, waiting.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a voice echoed in the hall.

It wasn’t the guard’s older, teasing voice. The speaker was younger, and more… agitated, but Katara only knew this from his voice—all she could see was his silhouette at the bottom of the stairs.

The charging guard halted, standing straight but not turning away from Katara.

“I found this one fleeing. She led me back to the ship.”

“All this for a southern water girl? Are you serious?”

Katara could hear the rage seeping from his voice. He couldn’t have been more than a few years her senior, and yet he commanded these men as if they were children.

The guard made a noise as if to speak, but his commander silenced him with a wave of fire emanating from his clenched fist. The heat reached her face from down the hallway.

“Bring her up for questioning but do it quickly. We’re done here.”

Katara stood her ground, unsure if she should drop the spear and go calmly or try to fight.

The guard walked forward and regarded the spear. “Was that really your plan?” Katara dropped the spear at her feet and resisted the urge to spit at the soldier. He took her by her arm in an unyielding grasp, and when she tried to shake off his hand it only tightened, pushing her forward, back to the doorway spilling with light.

On the deck three more soldiers waited. Two looked identical to the guard that had pursued her, but the third wore no helmet. His hair was tied up to reveal a long, rust-colored scar that extended out from around his eye like a flame.

The discolored snow fell between them, and Katara tried to think about it rather than this… predicament. It also helped her not to stare at the scar. It took everything in her body not to run.

“What were you doing here?” the one with the scar asked.

“Nothing. Just looking around.”

“The rat’s a liar,” said the guard. “I bet she was looking for intel on the fire nation.”

Katara’s hands balled into fists. “I was only exploring. I was bored.” _And I needed a distraction from my terrible water bending._

At that the boy—a teenager around her age, maybe older—sneered. “I don’t have any trouble believing that. I’d die if I had to live in a place like this. Let her go. But stay away from here, these false alarms are a waste of my time.”

The guard, still latched to her arm, grunted and turned to face her, but—she could see in the way his helmet moved—something caught his eye. He reached toward her pocket. Katara tried to move from his reach, but there was nowhere to go.

He pulled out the ornate string of rubies from where it was hidden, letting it glint in the sunlight. “Looks like we have ourselves a thief.”

The boy with the scar looked first to the necklace, then to Katara. His eyes surged, and he turned on her immediately. “Where did you get that?” His face was inches from her own. It was like standing near fire, but there were no flames.

She looked him in the eyes.

“It was in the ship.”

“So you just took it?”

“I—”

The boy grabbed the necklace from the guard and held it in both hands, almost gently. It looked as if he’d seen it before. Like it meant something to him.

“Bring her in. Stealing from the fire nation is a punishable crime.”

“Yes, Prince Zuko.”

“No! I—” Katara kicked and thrashed against the guard, but it was no use. She tried to explain. “I just found it! I didn’t know!” No one was listening. Another guard tied a cloth around her mouth to silence her and grabbed her by the other arm.

They carried her off, away from her tribe. Away from her brother. She would be leaving the Southern Water Tribe after all, but not in any way she’d imagined.


	2. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka’s too busy to realize his sister is nowhere to be found.  
> The sky’s full of black snow, and a mysterious flare went off. 
> 
> Time to investigate, Sokka-style.

# Sokka

## Chapter Two

### Too Late

When the black snow came, Sokka tried to ready the troops, but they were all still in their lessons with the schoolmaster.

It was fine. Whatever. He would just have to prepare by himself.

There wasn’t much to do, so Sokka mostly just made sure his boomerang and club were handy, perfected his war paint, and double-checked that he didn’t need to go to the bathroom—war made him have to nervous-pee. He wasn’t sure what would happen, but he needed to be ready for anything.

Then Sokka saw the flare.

He didn’t know what to think of it at first. Maybe he did, but he was too busy doing what he _thought_ he needed to do—too busy lost in his own excitement.

He rallied the troops. He told gran gran where they were going (half of the troops still picked their noses; their mothers would be asking questions). He thought to grab Katara, but didn’t have time to look for her. Sokka led what he thought would help: a slow, sneaky surveillance party. He and the kids snuck to the boat. They saw the disturbed snow, and Sokka made a show of pointing out where someone had been chased. Where there had been a struggle. Where they had been led away. He was showing off his detective skills to the kids when he realized… someone had actually been taken—someone he knew.

And he hadn’t seen Katara yet.

That’s when he punched the ship. The _metal_ ship. His hand throbbed with pain. His eyes were welling over, but not because of his hand. The kids… in half a second he’d forgotten about the kids.

The handful of seven-year-olds surrounded him, staring up with wide eyes.

“Troops,” Sokka turned from them to discreetly wipe the tears from his vision. “We have a missing person. We need to scan the horizon—they could already be gone, but we also need to be careful. Fire nation soldiers are not nice guys. Let’s spread out—tiger-crab formation.”

The kids loosely remembered what that meant—it helped when he named their drills after animals. (Well, it helped everyone but Takku, but that kid didn’t know his spearhead from his wolf-tail.)They spread out, no one person too far away from any other.

Sokka kept an eye on the horizon, but it was no use. The thick, sooty air made it impossible to see. After they’d picked over all the land west of the village, Sokka knew it was too late. He’d failed.

“I think it’s time we head back to camp. Good work, troops.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice, but didn’t suspect he’d succeeded.

“But we haven’t found our missing person,” Katta, one of the younger girls, said.

“We’ll find her.” Sokka knew it was a promise he’d already made to himself, but it felt good to say it aloud.

The walk back was excruciating. He didn’t want to have to admit to his grandmother that he’d failed. That they’d lost another member of their family… and more so, that she was about to lose him, as well. At least for a little while.

The next time merchant traders came to their island, he would set sail. The only problem was, they weren’t due for another merchant ship to come through for another month. Maybe he would get lucky, but chances were slim. Who knows how far Katara would be by then….


	3. Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara is a prisoner on board Zuko's ship. 
> 
> A creepy guard is lurking, and an unlikely friend is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: uncomfortable situation, endangerment

# Katara

## Chapter Three

### Belly of the Beast

The ship was warmer than anything Katara had ever experienced.

When they led her down into the hull she thought the heat would be temporary. It had to be—no one could breathe like this let alone think. She thought it would improve when they took her coat from her shoulders and cast it aside with her gloves, but if anything the heat only intensified. It sat against her skin like hot, sickly breath.

The guards sat her down on a chair and locked her wrists behind her back. Her ankles were tied with rope to the legs of the chair. They walked away grumbling about how she wouldn’t be able to water bend if this were some sort of an infiltration operation.

Katara rolled her eyes. She didn’t need chains to make her a useless bender; she could do that all on her own.

The sweat began in creases. It dripped slow, tickling drops from under her arms and behind her knees. Then it gathered on her forehead, down her neck, from her stomach—everywhere. She wondered if she were dehydrating, or if all the fire nation soldiers were secretly dying in their stuffy uniforms too. Her vision began to blur. At first she thought it was dizziness, but then she realized it got better when she blinked—it was just sweat running into her eyes. Like endless rain. Like hot sea spray. She made the mistake of opening her mouth only to taste the salt and close it again.

Katara tried to distract herself from the heat by looking around. This clearly wasn’t a ship meant to take prisoners—in the next cell were crates of charcoal and fresh vegetables. Well, they had been fresh at some point. Katara hadn’t seen many veggies, but she knew the good ones weren’t supposed to look quite so droopy… or smell quite so strongly.

Her furs, tossed by the guards, were a crumpled heap in the corner of her cell. They looked like a forgotten, wounded animal. She had made those with her gran gran. They took weeks to finish properly. Skinning, drying, dying, cutting and tailoring, sewing… Now they were on the floor collecting all the soot the fire nation fleet had to offer.

Thinking of her grandmother made it even more difficult to breathe. She could have been crying, but she couldn’t tell anymore. Her eyes were swimming anyway. Her chest was heavy. She bowed her head, unsure how she would ever get back home.

The sound of footsteps came down the hall. Two long shadows approached. Their voices were low, but not low enough.

“From what I hear from the men she is no more than a child.” The voice was weathered with age, like her gran’s. He sounded concerned; the last emotion Katara expected to hear on a fire nation ship.

“No more than I am.” It was the one with the scar. Prince Zuko. His voice was hardened; he hadn’t forgiven her for the necklace. She doubted he ever would.

“I thought this was a quest for your honor, nephew. Is capturing civilians the best way to prove yourself?”

“She’s a thief. That still matters, at least to me.”

They were close enough that Katara could make out their faces. The old man accompanying Prince Zuko was stout, but not clunky. His face was kind, lined with years of worry Katara could only guess at. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his robe, and he met her eyes when she looked at him. His expression held sadness. It was how she imagined she looked when staring at her own mistreated furs. _That’s probably all I am to him._ She was an abused object. Pitiful.

At least he would meet her eyes. Prince Zuko paid her no such compliment. _It’s like I’m not even human to him. Not even a wounded animal. Just a thing. A_ thief.

She was a thief. She was and she wasn’t. The necklace was the first item she’d ever taken that didn’t belong to her, and she only took it because… _why? Because it was abandoned? Because it was beautiful?_ She didn’t know, but she had taken it. She was guilty. She didn’t think it a crime punishable by imprisonment, but still, what had she expected?

_Something. Anything._ She remembered the moment desire broke through. She thought it might lead her to something more, but she imagined that being much less than this. She didn’t know what exactly, but her scope of different was small. She figured she would have talked to her gran gran, maybe arranged to sail out on a few trading expeditions… Deep down she had wanted more than that, and the universe had delivered in its own darkly humored way.

“I need water.” Katara’s voice was hoarse. Almost nonexistent. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d last spoken.

“I’m not stupid,” Prince Zuko said. “I won’t enable your bending.” He turned to leave, but his companion did not.

“She is from a people of ice, Zuko. Can you not see how she melts in this heat?”

Zuko paused. “She isn’t my concern. If you want to waste your time with this, be my guest.” He left without another word.

Once the sound of the prince’s footsteps had disappeared, the old man unlocked the door to Katara’s cell.

“I had a feeling you might need this.” The old man pulled his hands from his sleeves to reveal a waterskin. He held it to Katara’s lips, and she drank.

“I always hoped I would meet another southern water bender. Rumor was that they were extinguished, but the Southern Water Tribe has always been a resilient people."

Katara drank until there was nothing left. She didn’t know what to say. He seemed nice, but she was tied up, caged, and afraid.

“I’m not a bender. Not really.” She could no longer meet his eyes. She was a disappointment to everyone—even fire nation strangers.

The man considered for a moment.

“A flower bud is no less of a flower. Just wait—your time to bloom will come.”

Katara didn’t know why, but she felt completely comfortable talking about her insecurities with this strange man. Maybe it was the dehydration, or maybe the hopeless circumstances.

“I’m not sure I’m anything.” She wanted to ask him why he was being so nice to her. She also wanted to ask if she could get something to eat. She might have said something if not for the guard that appeared at the cell door.

“Prince Zuko has sent me to guard the prisoner.” The voice was new. Timid. Katara set her head back against the wall as the old man departed, closed her eyes, and tried to rest—or at least ignore the heat.

  


_Katara’s little, and she’s not. She’s the same as she’s always been, standing on the ice. She knows its a dream—something’s not quite right—but she doesn’t dare think on what it is for fear the dream will slip away. She knows she wants to be in this moment. She knows it’s the lesser evil, and the thought scares her, but it’s best not to dwell on that._

_There’s her mother. Telling her to go. Telling her to find her father. Saying everything will be alright._

_She knows it won’t, but she’s goes anyway._

_She tries to get one last look at her mother’s face, but she’s fading fast. And then she’s gone._

  


Katara woke, but didn’t bother opening her eyes. She could still see her mother’s face. She probably couldn’t remember her father’s right now, or even Sokka’s, but her mother was right there. Clear as day. She knew what gave the dream away—the ice. Hot to the touch. Even in her dreams she couldn’t escape the heat.

“Pleasant dreams?”

Katara’s eyes shot open. She knew the voice. It was the guard who had chased her. His tone was mocking—the sound of it scraped across the cell walls. Even in the slimy heat her skin seemed to crawl.

The guard stood just outside the cell, facing her.

He’d been watching her sleep. She shuddered to think how long he’d been there. She wanted to tell him off, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was freaking her out.

Another guard approached, and Katara had to fight not to show her sigh of relief.

“She giving you trouble?” the newcomer approached on silent feet.

“No more than usual.” Katara could almost hear the smile behind his face shield. She wondered if her anger and repulsion turned her face red, or if the heat had taken care of that already.

“I’m relieving you, Saizo. Shift’s over.”

The guards bowed to one another before the newcomer posted himself at Katara’s door. He faced away.

_Saizo. Good to know._ Not that she could do anything with the information, but it was more to go off of than the sound of his voice and his shielded face.

Once Saizo was gone, Katara asked how long they’d been sailing.

“Long enough,” was all the answer the new guard gave.

  


Her sweat could not be bent. She figured it was impossible (for her, anyway), but behind her back her fingers contorted in an attempt to push and pull. Her body swayed as much as it could, but that wasn’t much. Regardless, all the sweat did was drip. Or stay still. Or drip some more. Katara had no control, but at least it was a small activity to keep her mind occupied.

  


When fatigue came for her again Katara refused to rest. She feared if she closed her eyes for even a moment she might fall asleep and wake to find Saizo staring at her once more… or worse. She kept them open, and she prayed.

The first visitor of the night was the Prince’s uncle. He approached calmly, dismissed the guard for a short break, and entered Katara’s cell with a bowl of rice in hand.

He fed her, and once the guard was out of sight he began to speak.

“When we make port there will be a fishing boat waiting. I think, if all goes according to plan, we may be able to get you on it. My nephew is an impatient soul—I think this will be to your advantage.”

“Where are we going?” Katara asked.

“The port is west of Omashu, but the fishermen will be heading north. You need to make your way to the Northern Water Tribe. That is where you can find a master to train you. But first you need to escape Prince Zuko—if he trades you to another Fire Nation ship you have nothing in store but a life in captivity.”

“No!” Katara’s mind raced—she needed more information. This wasn’t what she wanted. She needed to get out. She didn’t know how to put into words what she thought would happen, but for the first time on board she felt truly afraid for her future. She wasn’t going back home. Her life was completely out of her control.

“This is the best we can do right now. Your life as you knew it is behind you, but that doesn’t mean your future is without hope.”

The guard returned. Once the rice was gone, the old man left.

  


Half-way through the night, just as Katara thought it might be safe to close her eyes, the guards changed.

“Miss me?”

Katara tried to sit up straight, but the edges of her vision went dark. She thought her stomach had already burned through the rice, but now it felt like whatever remained might come back up.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t do anything. Had she more strength she might have, but her body didn’t even feel like her own anymore. Her limbs were weak beyond anything she’d ever felt before, and her mind wasn’t entirely lucid—Katara was defenseless.

To her horror, the guard stepped into her cell. She couldn’t remember his name—she couldn’t remember where they were or why. Her thoughts had turned to hollow impressions of reality, and she didn’t dare trust the odd sounds rattling around in her exhausted, dehydrated mind.

“Can I help you?”

To her surprise, it was her own voice. It sounded wrong, sort of muffled, but it was her’s.

The guard laughed and laughed. He might have said something, but her ears were ringing. It looked like the expression on his face shield changed, but Katara knew that couldn’t be. Her eyes were playing tricks.

Then came another voice.

“What are you doing?”

She knew the voice. It was angry. So angry.

The guard turned from her and said things in a low voice her fuzzed-out ears couldn’t understand. She watched the guard step away, then slumped back against the wall. Her head thumped hard against the steel behind her.

Something blared bright, hot orange, but her eyes refused to stay open to find out what it was.

  


When she awoke, the prince sat across the cell from her. Her head had cleared a little with sleep—she could see him, and remember his name. Zuko.

“Sorry about him,” Prince Zuko said, nudging his chin to the side. His tone was the most calm she’d ever heard it. “He’s new. That kind of behavior isn’t tolerated on my ship.”

Katara glanced over to where he’d pointed and saw the guard face-down in a cell a few away from her’s. He still looked to be breathing, but his body was sprawled in a way that suggested unconsciousness.

Katara wanted to say something snarky like, _Glad to hear it,_ but all she said was “thank you,” and she couldn’t look up when she said it. She didn’t want to feel indebted to her captor—if he hadn’t brought her on board and locked her away, she never would have needed saving.

They sat in silence. Katara noticed a full waterskin beside the leg of her chair, as well as a bowl of noodles, but her hands were still bound.

“The necklace was my mother’s.” Zuko’s voice was quiet. Full of pain. “At least I think it was. That doesn’t mean anything to you, but for a moment… it was like she was there. Or somewhere. But now that we're away from the wreck, I’m not so sure. I hate that I can’t be certain.”

Katara considers. She knows he’s explosive, and seemingly anything could set him off. “I lost my mother when I was young,” she said slowly. “I think I see her almost every time I close my eyes. It makes me wish things were different—the real and the unreal.”

Zuko bowed his head.

“If only.”

Katara was silent. She didn’t know how to play this. She’d seen him with his uncle. He didn’t seem to respond well to reason or compassion, though he seemed to be opening up now. For the moment, silence seemed to be alright.

“There was a time when everything made sense. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. Now I’m not sure what to think anymore. I feel like I’m doing the right thing, the honorable thing, but every time I end up more and more miserable, and no closer to the truth.” Zuko put his head in his hands. “We’ve been on this ship for two years and still, nothing. If I were worth anything I’d have already found the avatar. Clearly I’m not the son I thought I was.”

“The avatar?” Katara wondered if her ears were going fuzzy again, but Zuko nodded.

“My father sent me out on a mission to capture him and restore my honor. Until I do, I have no place back home.”

“… Your father told you to find the avatar or you couldn’t return home?”

Zuko nodded again. “I know it sounds impossible, but he gave me the task because he knows I can handle it.”

Katara stared, unbelieving.

“But that’s insane. It’s more than insane, it’s cruel. No one has seen the avatar in a hundred years. It’s like…” she stopped herself before she said too much, though by the expression on Zuko’s face she knew she was too late. 

“Like what? Say it.”

“I didn’t mean…”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “Like he doesn’t want me to come home?” He scowled. “What do you know about it? Or my father? You’re nothing but a common thief from nowhere. He’s doing what’s right! He knows I’m strong enough. And he knows of honor, which is more than I can say for you.”

Katara could feel her face getting redder if that were even possible. 

“Oh, really? You’re strong an honorable? You took me _prisoner_ for taking a _necklace_ that hadn’t been touched in years. It was abandoned! How was I supposed to know you were prowling the waters just looking for an outlet for your anger!”

Zuko yelled through clenched teeth, spreading wave of fire from his fists. “Maybe I should have let my scum guard have his fun after all.” He left her cell, locking it behind him.

Katara wanted to scream at him, but she knew it was useless.

“In the morning we’ll make port. Then I’ll be the least of your problems, and you the least of mine.”

“Sounds good to me.”


End file.
